Monacus vs Six Lasers
2k5 - Sunday, July 28, 2013, 7:17 PM ------------------------------------ Nepsa Ski Slopes The Nepsan wind blows smooth and sharp over the mountainous regions. Known as the most perfect skiing location in the galaxy, the slopes range from beginner (horizontal) to tourist (slight incline) to suicidal (vertical). The air is full of the noise of excited chatter as skiiers from every planet in the galaxy wander about, sucking on lolly pops and other delicious frozen snacks. Contents: Blurr Space Shuttle <'Blast Off'> Brawl Obvious exits: Ski Chalet leads to Nepsa Ski Chalet. North leads to Nepsa Ice Fields. East leads to Yeti Grove. South leads to Statue Of The Hero. Americon has arrived. Tailgate has arrived. Fortress Maximus has arrived. Fortress Maximus' current form begins to reconfigure itself, shrinking in size, and he eventually emerges in his robotic form. Swindle has arrived. Swindle strides into the room looking to make a deal. Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! Nepsa Ski Slopes The Nepsan wind blows smooth and sharp over the mountainous regions. Known as the most perfect skiing location in the galaxy, the slopes range from beginner (horizontal) to tourist (slight incline) to suicidal (vertical). The air is full of the noise of excited chatter as skiiers from every planet in the galaxy wander about, sucking on lolly pops and other delicious frozen snacks. Contents: Swindle Fortress Maximus Tailgate Americon Blurr Space Shuttle <'Blast Off'> Brawl Obvious exits: Ski Chalet leads to Nepsa Ski Chalet. North leads to Nepsa Ice Fields. East leads to Yeti Grove. South leads to Statue Of The Hero. The ski chalet is Nepsa's most luxurious. Alien wood paneling covers the walls, but there's large windows overlooking some of the famous slopes that are known throughout the galaxy. It is a wintery day, as a blizzard had rolled in mere hours ago, covering both the chalet and the surrounding area in a blanket of deep, powdery snow. Aliens are only now venturing out to carve their mark on the slopes. But we are inside, and it is warm here. Yeti fur rugs are underfoot, free hot robo-cocoa is available, and there are soft couches and/or parking spaces available depending on one's mood (or mode). It is a large, Transformer-scale area, yet it still feels cozy and comfortable. The man (if it is a man at all) in the Kremzeek outfit has really gone all out to appeal to his guests, but despite being completely covered by it, he still seems nervous, fidgeting. "Steady, Kremzeek," he says to himself. "Don't think crazy robot antic. Think of merchandising. Think happy thoughts!" "YAAAAY SNOOWWW!" Brawl shouts. This is a very loud shout, as it is coming from Brawl. Let's hope it doesn't set off any avalanches. Brawl has arrived on a shuttle (Blast Off?) with the others, stepping out into the frigid temperatures with an air of pure childlike joy. He is presently wearing (somehow) a giant Kremzeek T-Shirt and a Kremzeekateer hat on his head. He has a book with him because he is going to go home with an Autograph, or SOMEONE WILL DIE. Blast Off shifts into his battle-ready robot mode. Americon is riding on Brawl's shoulders. It may be he's drawn to the Combaticon because he is also very loud. "YEAH! SNOW! Just like what they have in AMERICA! But not in the summertime. That is OKAY though!" There's a wanted poster for Americon's arrest in Darkmount somewhere, but the tape wore off of it and it got trampled by apathetic passers-by. Blast Off arrives with Brawl. He rolls his optics at Brawl's behavior. "Brawl, please. This is not becoming of a Combaticon warrior. Control your....enthusiasm." Blast Off walks in calmly, looking with approval at the fancy surroundings. Having roots in "high society" before the war, he has an appreciation for luxurious things. Blurr enters the cozy chalet, having decided to respond to Six Lasers' invitation to this nice little place to hear their proposal. For once, he doesn't smash through the door running at supersonic speeds and shatter all the windows with his sonic booms just to show off how awesome he is. No, this time he casually opens the door, just like he ought to, momentarily glancing behind him at the ridiculously-decked-out Brawl and chuckling slightly. He walks up to the man in the Kremzeek suit and extends a hand for him to shake. "Greetings, Six Lasers representative." he says evenly. "What a great costume you have there. Thank you for inviting us here!" After arriving with the others, likely on Blast Off, and walking into the chalet, Swindle pauses to look down and rub a foot along a yeti fur rug. "Very plush. Definately authentic." With that in mind he proceeds forward, inspecting the rest of the room. "Someone is definately going out of their way to make an impression." Pause. "And I dare say it's working so far." Though if in the manner intended, well, that is to be seen.... Kremzeek's yellow arms shake as he pours himself some alien brandy. It is Brawl's shout that has given him a sudden nonoccurrence of nerves. When Americon arrives, Kremzeek takes a sip. How does he do it through the outfit? F--- you is how he does it. Luckily, Blast Off, Blurr, and Swindle seem better suited to behaving themselves. As caterers (who are, like, a MILLION times more professional than that G'don Ram-Z asshole) begin serving hors d'oeuvres to his guests. They are all Transformer themed, such as ener-cocktail weenies, ener-crackers and cheese, and ener-spring rolls. "Fast bot not first one here? Hah!" Kremzeek replies to Blurr, apparently finding that hilarious. "Hopefully you faster at accepting DEAL OF LIFETIME." When Swindle arrives, Kremzeek actually goes and seeks him out. If Swindle accepts, Kremzeek will give him a great big hug, holding him closely like a brother. Tailgate hasn't been having any luck trying to get people to adopt his toasters, perhaps that's why he's here, trying to solicit support for his needy... 'friends.' He's tucked them all underneath the large furry rug in the lounge area, to make sure they don't freeze in the cold climate. It hasn't yet occurred to him that putting his 'friends' under the rug may cause them to get trampled. He takes a look around the large room, his optics widening and gazing temporarily on the trampled poster of Americon, wondering if he's the one responsible for incriminating the unfortunate casseticon. Oh my, it would appear that he's even here--what a strange coincidence. He appraoches the 'Con. "Oh, hi! It's nice to see that you didn't die when you fell down last time I saw you! I figured surely Galvatron would save you! It was such a fun time, riding on you! Not a bad flier, I might add! Eh-heh!" It's hard to tell if the minibot is being sincere or not. Brawl follows his brothers into the room, and immediately upon seeing Kremzeek, gasps audibly, bringing his hands up to his faceplate. "He's real," he whispers in almost reverent tones to his new Tape Buddy, Americon. Fortress Maximus is shuttled in by one of the Nepsan transports that's appropriately sized for him. The big guy gets off, and taps his transaction card against the driver's side window to initiate payment before entering the ski chalet. "It's been a while since I've been in such a snowy climate." And it has! The last time Fortress Maximus was here it was during the Olympics and he was getting his head clobbered in by Rodimus Prime. The Headmaster commander closes the door behind him, pats off the snow that had accumulated on him during his brief time outside and looks around, "I see everyone--" his optics sweeps around the room, noticing Tailgate, Blurr, and then Blast Off, Brawl, Swindle, and Americon, "---has arrived." Blast Off notices Blurr's arrival and hesitates for a moment. There is a flash in his optics as... something surges in his spark... but the Combaticon's faceplate does its customary good job at hiding his emotions. Then he simply ignores Blurr- and Brawl- and continues on, accepting some hors d'oeuvres. Ah, so far (except for the Autofool's presence) this is more like his kind of occasion. Bludgeon has arrived. Americon snorts. "Of COURSE he's real, Brawl! Don't you remember Megatron's plot to use some crazy electro-guy to take over the world or something? It was..." He blinks, staring off into space. "...I... oh Primus. Why would I remember that? I wasn't even created yet! Why would I think that's a thing that... I experienced!? What's wrong with me!?!" The camera zooms in slowly on Americon's face as his cheek starts twitching. "Onslaught told me he was dead," Brawl sniffles, patting Americon in sympathy. Maybe too hard. "He also told me to go play in traffic for awhile so he could think clearly." Blurr is either ignoring Blast Off, or truly has not taken notice of him. He just nods at the costumed Kremzeek. "Oh, why you even have his personality down quite well!" he compliments. "Although I did arrive here first, good sir. I simply thought it appropriate to wait for the others." he says, glancing around at his fellow Autobots and nodding in greeting to them. Sitting down, he accepts the food, thanking the caterer. Hopefully he is not another G'don...whatever that guy's name was. It appears that Americon's attention is directed elsewhere. It seems to Tailgate that perhaps a few of the mechs here are confused about the costumed Kremzeek. "....." He looks around momentarily. "That's not the real Kremzeek," Tailgate says matter of factly, "that's just some fellow in a costume. You couldn't know if Kremzeek was or not by looking at HIM." When offered food, Tailgate takes a few, placing them carefully inside the slots of his toaster friends. On his way over, Americon may notice Tailgate pick up his trampled wanted poster and study it carefully. KKKKTTHK. "Argh my back!" Americon cries as his back snaps and he slumps against Brawl's head. "Eh, don't worry about it, happens sometimes. But yeah, that sucks, I guess he couldn't brighten everyone's lives forever. Now we just have this loser in a costume!" Then he notices Tailgate's holding something! Is that a wanted poster with his (eagle) face on it? "Hey! Gimme!" Americon grunts, but his back is broken so he has to resort to flailing at Tailgate ineffectually. Swindle picks a ener-weenie from the tray and sticks it in his mouth, plucking it off the stick. "Ah, considerate in the type of hors d'oevres as well." He picks his dental plates with the stick briefly, then looks down as he's hugged by the mascot. At least this isn't the first, original Kremzeek where this could be a lethal thing to a transformer, shorting out. "Are you the one that's arranged all this? I must commend your thoroughness to detail." Brawl suddenly turns on Tailgate. "What do you mean he's not real?!" he demands loudly and angrily, totally missing the point of what Tailgate is saying. "Mmmmm," Kremzeek says part way through his uncomfortably long hug with Swindle. "Agreed for economically wise robot like you. You best robot of all," he whispers. Finally he finishes it and steps back. He doesn't seem to notice Brawl fawning over him, but this is only because he is used to it. He is the famous mascot of the greatest amusement park in galactic history! He sure /looks/ real. Stepping to the centre of the warm and inviting chalet, Kremzeek gives a thumbs up to Tailgate and Fortress Maximus. He has no idea who either of them are but it feels like the right thing to do. "Ha ha, you two have it in for each other!" he says of Blurr and Blast Off. "You need save it for Olympic races, held here at beautiful Six Lasers Inc.!" "Oh that remind Kremzeek. Free food, free swanky chalet, and free ski passes not free! Ha, Kremzeek actually have ulterior motive. Olympic motives! Guests love watching Transformer fights. Guests also love Six Lasers. That why Olympics should--no, MUST--be held at Six Lasers again!" Kremzeek does a little fist pump. "In return, I offer 10% royalties. 5% for Autobot, 5% for Decepticon. That include animated spin-off but no merchandising. So, we have deal?" BAM!! Before anyone can answer, the door to the frigid outdoors swings open and crashes against the wall. A grotesquely fat green alien waddles through, having kicked open the door. He shakes the accumulated snow off him like a fat dog shakes off fat water after coming in from a fat rainstorm. "15% and not a Shanix more for competing on Monacus!!" Lord Gycony roars. Two burly looking lizard bodyguards walk through and flank him. Swindle continues to pick his dental plates with the toothpick, though he does raise an optic ridge as 'Kremzeek' starts talking a topic he can really take interest in. "Ah, an ulterior -economic- motive. I approve, I approve!" But seeing as this is his forte Swindle strides back to the front of the Decepticon group, idly adjusting his bolo-tie with one hand. "But no merchanizing? Are you sure about that? Surely we can come up with a beneficial to all parties arrangement on that as we--" And then the explosive entrance of Gycony interrupts his negotiation. Though it must not be the first time Swindle has had such an interruption as he just idly steps back out of the way of a few flying bits of door. "--Well now, what's this? A rival in the industry? How delightful!" Tailgate turns to Brawl. Apparently, he's about to break a very hard truth to the poor 'Con. "Well, that guy is just dressed up to look like--" But then, he's quite rudely interrupted by the door being flung wide open by some strange looking alien who is a heinous color of green. When the Kremzeek gives Tailgate a thumbs up, the minibot just gives him a peculiar and somewhat irritated look. He wanted to make shanix off of the war between the Autobots and Decepticons? What a wanker. As Americon flails at him, Tailgate just holds it out of his reach. "Did Galvatron save you? I was wondering, since how you survived is a mystery at this point in time! Remember when I rode on you while you were flying? That was fun!" Blurr nods at Tailgate, then turns to Brawl as he asks the minibot a question. "Yes, Brawl--that is in fact merely a man in a Kremzeek costume. Albeit a very good one!" He ignores the mascot's comment about his rivalry with Blast Off, other than stealing a brief smug look at the Combaticon shuttle. When the fat green Lord Gycony bursts in, he jumps a little in his seat, dropping a handful of energon sticks to the floor. "Lord Gycony." he greets. Wow, he is certainly not in a good mood. "You are certainly...enthusiastic." Brawl suddenly looks sparkbroken. His faceplate trembles. Tailgate and Blurr have effectively KILLED HIS HERO. This will have ramifications, just not immedate ones. Right now the tank is too devastated to even yell. Blast Off , for once, actually looks glad to be "ignored" by Blurr earlier. The Combaticon shuttle remains mostly silent, enjoying his hors d'oeuvres and trying some of the other offerings. He spends some time admiring the architecture of the building -as well as studying all the Autobots present. There are too many for his tastes, indeed. Then Kremzeek comments on his rivalry with the hovercar. His optics narrow at the mention, but he seems extremely ...quiet right now. There's a brief, slightly uncomfortable glance at Blurr, then he looks away and moves closer to Brawl. Then the business deals fly- first by Krimzeek, then, suddenly, Lord Gycony. Blast Off pauses and watches Swindle- he expects the businessmech to handle this kind of thing. He looks back at Brawl as Tailgate and Blurr *shatter* Brawl's dreams and his optics roll slightly. He whispers to his teammate: "Brawl.... Control yourself. Find your happy place. This is not the place for a....brawl. ...We will deal with them later." Tailgate's uncontrollable spout of compassion suddenly turns on full blast. "Don't be sad!" he says, patting Brawl. "I'm sure he's real, he's just not here. Or...! Maybe he is, just not in this room!" Americon grrrrs! "NUH UH well Galvatron didn't save me but he didn't have to waste his time either because he's the President so I SAVED MYSELF so it's cool and all." Then... Gycony bursts in! "Also, who the hell is that guy and who invited him? Imma shoot him with my lasers!" He fumbles for a laser rifle on his back, but ends up dropping it. It goes off when it hits the floor and shoots a hole through the ceiling. "Oops, sorry!" Kremzeek doesn't hear Tailgate comment on his costume, and THAT IS A GOOD THING. No, he is too stunned by Gycony's dramatic arrival. He gawks, staring in shock and horror. Ugh! he thinks. This pleasant gathering just got way too fat for his tastes! He looks to Swindle, hoping against hope that the Combaticon isn't swayed by Gycony's venomous words. Oh but of course he is. "Merchandising..." he warbles. He reaches out and grabs the side of a couch to avoid fainting right then and there. Gycony waddles to the middle of the room. He looks to Blurr. "/Determined/ is what I am, Autobot. Determine not to let this-" he was about to call Kremzeek a swindler but then thinks better of it, "-huckster trick you with an inferior offer. Blurr, I offer not only economic power, but political and military power as well." To Americon, he says, "I am Lord Gycony, administrator of the mighty planet of Monacus and the original site for the Galactic Olympics. The Galactic Assembly is debating the fate of your world. Consider this, Autobots and Decepticons, if war is declared, fleets of mercenary and pirate ships could be arrayed against you. There is only one man in this galaxy who can ensure that none are available to be hired." His oversized mouth breaks into a sickening grin, drool running through his teeth. He jabs a chubby thumb at himself. Brawl tries to think of his happy place. The world is full of rainbows and pink fluffy unicorns and the Autobots are inexplicably fat angel babies. His weapons shoot candy. He starts humming 'do you believe in magic' under his breath. Blast Off huffs in contempt at Gycony. What an arrogant organic TOAD. That's what he wants to say, but decides to let Swindle continue to deal with it. He does glare over at Americon, however, as the cassette shoots a hole in the ceiling. "Watch it, that ceiling is probably worth more than YOU are." Then he watches Brawl TRY to do as instructed. "Very good. ....You might want to work on your taste in music, however." "Gentlemen, -gentlemen-," Swindle steps into the middle of the brewing confrontation, holding an arm up in both directions. "Let's not turn this event into an argument of name calling and cheap shots. As we are all very well aware of the Council's activities to potentially oppose our race as a whole, there is no reason to throw that around as threat for leverage. Let's try to keep this civilized, shall we?" Blurr listens intently to Gycony's words, as the large lizard-man addresses him directly, even saying his name. Of course he knows his name! Kremzeek isn't the only famous one in here. Speaking of which, the costumed guy kinda insulted him, AND is currently looking like he's about to pass out. Plus, there's the war...military might is certainly coveted over free ski resort passes. So yeah, right about now the one the speedster is going to side with is hardly even a question. The courier nods once Gycony is finished. "Yes, determination is essential." he turns to Swindle. "But he's right, we will need as much support as we can possibly get if the Coucil is about to send its forces and allies to destroy Cybertron. Whether Autobot or Decepticon, it is our homeworld." Kremzeek sweats as Gycony lays on the charm. The sweat appears on the outside of his costume. How? Same answer as how he was sipping that brandy. Gycony folds his arms across his chest. This is actually harder than it sounds because his chest is so huge. He does seem to calm down at Swindle's insistence, but then adds, "Blurr is right." Of course he knows Blurr. He's the most famous racer since Rorza, the Rocket-Cycle Racer from Rigel III. "I see no reason not to address the Chaosteros in the room. The man who holds the reins on half the pirates in the galaxy /should/ be considered, huh! Now, I offer both military support AND the superior economic support. I think," he sneers, "We are done here?" "20%!" Kremzeek suddenly blurts out, hand trembling. "20% for all spin-offs AND merchandising! And think of this, Autobot!" he looks to Blurr. "Gycony GANGSTER! All that profit goes to CRIME! But Six Laser Inc.? Six Laser Inc. just good wholesome multi-stellar corporation." Americon winces as Blast Off chastises him. "Hey, I'm sorry! But hey, it's okay, we can just patch it over or something later. I got some spackle... I can't get it, right now, though... back's broken." He slumps some more against Brawl's head. "Hmm, but anyway, Kremzeek raises a good point! As Decepticons, we love crime a *lot.* We should totally go with Gycony, he is, as they say in California, O.G." Yes, Gycony is a gangster. And a lot of his money probably does go to crime. But Blurr doesn't appear to care. His expression hardens somewhat. "That 20% will not matter when the fate of our homeworld is hanging balance." he says pointedly. "Gangster or not, we need those pirates off of our tailpipes, if not assisting us in any way they possibly can..." At that, he arches a brow ridge at Gycony. "You can do that, right? You can go beyond just convincing them to leave us alone?" Swindle raises a brow at Kremzeek. "Yes. A gangster. You say this like it's a bad thing though." Swindle looks from the mascot to Gycony and back again. One offers the sort of thing -he- would be interested in, while the other offers something more important to their entire race regardless of factions, one could say. "Well you both do have very compelling arguments," Swindle finally speaks up again, folding one arm across his faux windshield chest to prop the opposite elbow in the palm and stroke his chin. "But here is the thing I am wondering. Just how does which group maintaining the operation of the Olympics relate to the Council's stance on Cybertron relate in such a matter that you would both be willing to offer portions of your economic strengths to try and sway our interests?" Tailgate's optics widen when Gycony comes into full view. For a moment, he just stands there, fists clenched loosely. "Oh, Primus...!" he gasps. He's the ugliest thing Tailgate has ever seen. His offer is much more compelling though, he has to agree with Blurr. When Americon comments about his broken back, he looks concerned. Producing a metal strut from his subspace compartment (nevermind where he got it from or why he has it) he waves it at the Casseticon. "Here, I have a splint! I"m sure this will help you feel better!" Kremzeek slaps himself in the face at Americon's words. "No! Not good crime! Bad crime! Crime that not pay Decepticon! You want more money you go with Kremzeek and leave fatty out of it!" You're losing them, Kremzeek! he thinks to himself. He looks to Americon. He looks to Blurr. He looks to Swindle. He looks to Gycony's fat, fatty fat smug grin. Kremzeek wonders if he has made a fatal blunder. "Argh, Kremzeek kids will starve but FINE! 25% but I not go higher! You Autobot want pirate? You Autobot hire your OWN pirate! Mmmm think of all pirate and energon and... robot stuff you buy with all that extra cash. You know how much Transformer toy rights worth?!" Answering Swindle, he says, "Six Lasers Inc. win contract, we vote /no/ on blow up Cybertron. Galaxy RESPECT Six Lasers Inc.! Galaxy not respect fat bastard." Gycony scoffs and is about to retort, but the lovable mascot cuts him off. Ok, ok, Kremzeek thinks. Now, hit 'em with everything you got! Bring out the big guns! "Kremzeek also promise free tea cup rides for whole year AND Masterpiece release of EVERYONE IN ROOM! That right! Deal so good Kremzeek must be crazy!" TPInfo A new announcement has just been posted on +tpinfo about TP/RP: TCP: The War For Charr Americon's optics go wide as Tailgate threatens to repair him! "What, oh no, get away from me!" He flails his arms some more, but he succeeds only in falling off of Brawl's head and landing face first on the ground. "Hrrgh... dammit. Wait, what? Free tea cup rides? Masterpiece releases?" Americon imagines what his Masterpiece toy would be like. Its transformation would surely be so complex and amazing that it would outdo even the transformation sequence of the REAL Americon! "Oh, man... you drive a hard bargain, Kremzeek!" Brawl is listening to all of this, and thinking very hard. Smoke is wafting out of his audials. Blast Off relents a little, but comments, "Spackle will HARDLY be enough. That was WOOD you just shot through- very high quality wood, coincidentally." The rest of Americon's words get a shrug. Blast Off still doesn't like the impudent green alien, but it's not his concern... unless he gets a signal from Swindle to shoot somebody. He looks over at Brawl again and there is a tiniest flicker of concern. "Are you...alright, Brawl? Would you like some ener-weenies or something? They actually taste reasonably well. I do believe there was also some hot ener-cocoa....perhaps I should get you some?" Fortress Maximus is drawn back into the scene again after being in the background for all this time. He crosses his arms and thinks thoughtfully before commenting, "Gycony's offer does seem to secure Cybertron's safety, but at what cost? The amount of revenue that he gains from the Olympics would enable to commit further shadier deeds. Deeds that can hurt innocents, and motivate revenge on us." Tailgate tries to put the splint on'Americon', but he's flailing and he just ends up accidentally knocking Americon on the helm. "Ah! Stop waving your wings, I'm just trying to help!" he says. But then the Casseticon falls off of Brawl's shoulder and crashes face first onto the ground. The minibot cringes. "Here.." he says soothingly, sitting on his neck to secure him. "This will fix you temporarily..." He starts to tie the splint to the struggling Casseticon. Oh my, smoke is coming out of Brawl's audials. Tailgate blinks, and fans the smoke with Americon's wanted poster. "..." Sorry Kremzeek, but you're just not swaying the speedster. Blurr shakes his head. "If we can't defend Cybertron, there might not be enough of us left to entertain your customers at the Olympics." He points out. "Your vote on the Council may count for one, but military strength in a time of great need far outweighs its significance to us." The courier then turns to Maximus. "Are you slagging me, Maximus? We don't have the luxury of sitting around thinking about consequences of consequences 100 kils down the expressway that might possibly result from the decisions we had to make to protect Cybertron. The fate of our homeworld isn't exactly sitting down over a glass of engex in the Helix Gardens during the Golden Age....sir!" he adds respectfully. Brawl finally comes to some kind of conclusion. "Toys are nice, but guns are better than toys. It is much harder to kill bad guys like the Autobots with toys." Kremzeek smiles inwardly. He has their attention, perhaps? Everyone except that Blurr guy, though. "That why Kremzeek offer you more money than fatty. You buy whatever you want. Nothing better than money!" Gycony, however, looks unimpressed. "Nobody cares about your stupid toys," he scoffs. "My mercenaries are more than enough to sweeten this deal in my favour." He waddles over and grabs half a plate of ener-beanie weenies, scarfing them down in one huge, disgusting gobble. <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Everything copasetic up there?" <'Autobot'> Fortress Maximus says, "The choices certainly aren't easy to make." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Kinda wish I was there." <'Autobot'> Tailgate says, "I wish you were here! <3" <'Autobot'> Blurr says, "If you ask me, the choice couldn't be more obvious." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Afraid Maximus and Galen outvote you two to one, Blurr." Americon honestly can't decide which one he should go with, he just wishes Tailgate would stop trying to help him. "Noooo! Not a splint! I'd rather be paralyzed than... splinted by an Autobot I guess!" He tries to wriggle away, but again, back broken. Then it occurs to him, while he's struggling, how to solve this problem. "HEY I KNOW!" he yells. "We could have Kremzeek and Gycony knife-fight each other to the death, and whoever wins, that's who we go with! It'll be like that video, uh, 'Bad,' except Michael Jackson isn't around to intervene! Mwahahaha!" <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "What *are* the choices? I mean... this is just a business meeting, right?" <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "What, are we debating colors for the Olympic uniforms or something?" Swindle gives a dismissive wave towards Fortress Maximus. "Over half the galaxy wants us scrapped or our planet off-lined anyways, you know. But I wouldn't expect any less concern of such frivilous aspects from an Autobot." Now, how can he make this come out profitable for the most important one involved here. Which would be himself, of course. Followed vagely by the Decepticons in general. But mostly himself. Resumes stroking his chin thoughtfully. Hmmm. "That's just so absurd it might be viable," the Combaticon finally murmurs to himself, and turns back to the group in general. Briefly lowers his optics and steeples his hands in front of his face, as if composing himself. Or just making sure he's got the right words picked out in his mind before he finally looks up again. "Certainly an unorthadox approach. But why not -share- the operation of the Olympic games?" He parts his hands to hold them astride. "Hear me out on this, my fellows. What's the point of the compatitions in the end? To entertain, right? And who knows entertainment better than Six Lasers. But Monacus definately has the greater economic weight" Pauses. "No offence, your Lordship." Achems and resumes. "To throw around. Not to mention all the experience in gambling, betting, and the like. The more, shall we say, adult side ventures that go with the games." Swindle puts his hands together to illustrate. "So why not, instead of arguing, you -combine- those efforts? Share responsability over the Olympics?" Then parts them to gesture towards Kremzeek. "Six Lasers can handle the advertizing and merchandizing that they accel at so well," then shifts stance to gesture at Gycony, "and Monacus can have the rights to the matters of the betting circuits, gambling chances and the like." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Red, blue, and white, obviously. But seriously, I too would like to know what we're being made to choose between." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Those are some ... interesting colors." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "I think myself and Ultra Magnus would look stunning in them." "Share?!" both Gycony and Kremzeek exclaim with shock and horror. "With fatty/dumbass?!" Kremzeek once again looks like he might faint, and Gycony looks like he's going to throw up. Gycony's lizard bodyguards hold him back to prevent the boss from running (waddling) over to Kremzeek and choking him by his non-existent neck. Both of them look around in terror (Kremzeek) and fury (Gycony) at this suggestion, hoping that nobody else here likes it. "Yes, Brawl. Exactly." He shakes his head at the ...idiocy, but still finds himself wanting to help his teammate. "I will go get you some ener-cocoa.... perhaps that will...soothe your feelings?" Blast Off does so, walking across the room to obtain a drink, then heads back. Watching the goings-on between Swindle and the other "Businessmen", he doesn't notice the bulge under the rug he is about to step on. There's a CRUNCH as he steps on one of Tailgate's toasters. He looks down, confused by the presence of...TOASTERS?...under a rug, then ignores it and moves back towards Brawl, holding the cocoa out for him. "I vote for that knife-fight idea," Gycony mutters threateningly. Fortress Maximus sighs and shakes his head, "Blurr, not caring about consequences of actions affecting others is what got us here in the first place. We fight our wars, do what we can and forget that the rest of the galaxy is also paying the price along with us." He looks at Kremzeek intently, "Your vote will be very useful, it has my attention, but you will have to sweeten the pot for us or it may be hard to convince my subordinates here." Fortress Maximus smiles ever so slightly as he concludes, "We want to keep our home world out of the Galactic Assembly's firing lines." The Headmaster leader looks over to Swindle and smirks, "Perhaps now we won't add a few more onto list of species that wants our heads." Brawl ignores Blast Off for just a moment, because Swindle just said a lot of words and when Swindle says a lot of words, that means something special and magical is happening that is far too wonderful for Brawl to comprehend. He doesn't need to comprehend. He only needs to enforce. "I think it's a VERY GOOD IDEA," Brawl shouts, "and you both should do it or I will make you both VERY DEAD." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Well yes." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "You'd sort of blend into the landscape." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "And what a gorgeous landscape we'd be." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "That remains to be seen." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "I could do one of those colors alone, but I think I'd clash if I tried it all at once." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "I never thought I could live with bizarre human numerals on my hood, but none of us know what's possible unless we try it." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "No, orange and black don't really go that well with red white and blue." Kremzeek looks over at Fortress Maximus wearily. How does he look weary when he's wearing a costume? You know the answer. "Kremzeek have twenty-eight kids to feed..." he complains. "What else could fast bot possibly want? Kremzeek not made of teacup rides!" Gycony looks to Brawl menacingly, but stops short of sneering. "You'd rob me of my dignity by forcing me to partner with an... *chortle* glorified /amusement park/?" Tailgate finishes securing a splint to Americon when he hears the crunch of one of his toasters. "Noooo!" he cries, jumping off of Americon's back and rushing over to where the toasters are tucked neatly under the rug. He cradles the broken toaster. "It's o-okay.. I'll ...I'll fix you.. d-don't worry.." As for the knife fighting idea, he is definitely not a fan, but what kind of say does he have? He has other.. more pressing concerns at the moment anyway. <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Well, that's hardly something I can control." <'Autobot'> Fortress Maximus says, "It turns out that one party is offering to buy out all of the mercenaries that may potentially join the Galactic Assembly's war efforts against us. The other is offering to vote in favour of not going to war with Cybertron on the Galactic Assembly." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "So we have to gamble that those mercenaries will tip the balance in a war... or that one vote will make the key difference." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Perfect choice of words." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "I guess the real question in the bet is what they /want/ for each of those." Americon yells, "ARGH it's HORRIBLE!" as he is able to stand up again thanks to the splint. He panics, trying to tear it off his back, but he just can't reach. "Curse you, Tailgate! You'll pay for this, but not now, probably later or something! But anyway, forcing Kremzeek and Gycony to team up sounds like a great idea since we'll be able to get the mercs off our backs AND get sweet toys made of us! I say we do it! And also I say we make them kiss each other to seal the deal!" <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Council's the safe, PR-friendly bet." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "I mean, what's the worst that Six Lasers will do, make a crappy cartoon of us farmed out to a cheap, unnamed production company?" "I've already made it clear what I want." Blurr says flatly in response to 'Kremzeek'. "We need as much military strength as we can get in order to defend ourselves should the Galactic Council decide to attempt to annihilate Cybertron. He glances at Swindle, and smirks at his idea. "Good luck convincing them to work together." he chuckles. <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "mercenaries we have no guarantee on helping us." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "It's just a promise of them maybe not killing us. And as charmless as it must sound for me to say it -- let 'em try, we have Dinobots." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Slag, if I were callin' the shots, I'd go with the council vote, then send in a deep cover team to sew discord among the mercenary groups and let 'em eat each other alive." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "I'll get the fake mustaches, so they won't recognize us." Kremzeek sighs, "Six Lasers Inc. not army. No military other than hilarious themed guard service. You want military you have to buy military." He knows that Blurr is a lost cause. <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Riiight." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "They probably wouldn't recognize me. I just got recruited." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "I haven't even had my officiation ceremony." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "We probably haven't found a good enough plank over a deep enough river yet. Unless it's changed since my day." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "It's changed." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "I had to read the entire Autobot Code book." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Shame." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "The unabridged version." <'Autobot'> Fortress Maximus says, "Those are good questions, Smokescreen. We know that Gycony, the ones offering to buying out the mercenaries is waist deep in dirty deeds. The money they can get from this will drive their operations even further. Six Lasers is far more chancey but... it's clean." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "/Gycony/?!" Swindle may of just rolled his optics for a moment there, unsurprised that the two are trying to resist the idea. But it's gone as quick as it came as he recomposes himself, and once again steps in the middle of the two like he could prevent an economic feud from burning farther down the fuses. Muffles a groan under his breath when Americon says 'force'. "I admit, it is probably not the most favorable of arrangements, but think of it this way." He settles his cool businessman gaze on both Kremzeek and Gycony. "Just how much money do your operations--" He almost says wastes, but then changes his mind on wording, "--EXPEND on this feuding? How much that could instead go to those very profits you are fighting for?" Calmly Swindle puts his hands behind his back again, and smirks just a little. "Or how about this? This year, you both run the Olympics together. Let people see how -both- your operations would handle it, side by side. A little economic compatition, you could say. Afterwards, with all the evidence in front of them, you let the very populance you seek to entertain and/or expl-emm-profit from decide for themselves. Does that appeal to your differences more?" Swindle turns to face the group in general again. "And in return, all -both- of you have to do is give your support for us to the Council. Use this event of me, and my racial brether by proxy, trying to help you two settle this difference in a matter suitable to the situation rather than going to war over it. A demonstration that Cybertronians do have more interest than just trying to kill each other with no regard fro the world around us?" <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Ugh, even human decades later, that creep makes me want to choke up my carburetor. Don't trust a word he says. Ever." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "And when you choose against him, expect reprisal." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "I mean, we're talking about the man who once tried to enslave Optimus Prime." "I'll have to hope that your vote will work out for us in the end, Kremzeek. Rodimus certainly wouldn't tolerate us staining our hands with the bloody of innocents just to save our hides." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "He must have some huge bearings." "I'll have to hope that your vote will work out for us in the end, Kremzeek. Rodimus certainly wouldn't tolerate us staining our hands with the bloody of innocents just to save our hides." Fortress Maximus says firm and grimly. <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "I'm gonna have to check out Monacus. I want to see this." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "I'd be happy to be your guide." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "I'm, heh, quite familiar with the place. Not to honk my own horn." <'Autobot'> Fortress Maximus says, "I'm counting on you to make sure Shiftlock doesn't get too in over her head there, Smokescreen. We both know what kind of a place Monacus can be." "Survival of the fittest," Brawl says, folding his arms. The fuzzy mini-'Kremzeek' deely-boppers on his head sway from side to side. <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Of course." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Can't be worse than the tunnels under Crystal City during active Decepticon occupation." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Probably not, but it's turbo-apples and cyber-oranges. The organic life on Monacus tends to be... slimy, in both the metaphorical and the literal sense." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Interesting. Yeah, I realize it's not the same and I'll take good advice when it's needed, but if I'm gonna function well in this outfit, I need to get exposed to all kinds of situations." Gycony curls his upper lip into a furious, disgusted expression as Swindle points out all the wisdom of them working together. Argh, that Combaticon is bad... yet good. He gives a hesitatingly look over to Kremzeek. "I, ugh, guess it /would/ be costly shooting your stupid roller coasters into the sun..." he admits. Kremzeek shuffles his feet. "I suppose Kremzeek is ok with voting pro-Cybertron, even if it mean lowering standard. Six Laser Inc. vote best vote of all," he assures Fortress Maximus. "Only reason Gycony hate roller coaster is because he too fat to sit in them!" Like two young bratty children who are being forced into it, Gycony and Kremzeek slowly inch closer to one another. "Yes... let populace decide." "Monacus's casinos will continue to outdraw your piddly rides." They shake hands, pulling each other in for a close half-hug. "I am going to see if you electrocute as well as your namesake," one of them whispers quietly. Only those with enhanced hearing can pick up the friendly exchange. "Kremzeek will eat your soooouuuuuul," the other hisses back. Blurr remains silent as Swindle tries to convince the two of them to work together without killing each other, his arms folded and his face blank. Swindle has a point, but there's another reason why the speester is throwing his lot in with Gycony besides the ones he's already given. Though he doesn't appear to be adamantly against Swindle's idea. What that reason is exactly remains to be seen... <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Luckily, you don't have the anatomy necessary for the worst of it. Not that some of them won't still try. But that's hardly polite dinner conversation. ...which you should really expect none of, on Monacus." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "I hang out with Whirl." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "Can't be much worse than that." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Oh, then you're set." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "Just imagine a planet full of Whirls, some slightly better, some slightly worse." <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "That... sounds tremendously appealing." <'Autobot'> Smokescreen says, "You know what they say about too many gigabytes of a good datafile." <'Autobot'> Skydive says, "Oh, by the way, does that guy still want to beat me up???" <'Autobot'> Blurr says, "I am sure Whirl would much like to beat up anyone." <'Autobot'> Blurr says, "Sometimes he gives special preferences, though." <'Autobot'> Skydive says, "True, but last I heard he was about a bust a piston over something I'd said. Er, yes, that's what I meant..." Tailgate is still cradling his toaster Wonderbread, trying his best to piece together the broken wiring, talking soothingly in a soft voice. <'Autobot'> Shiftlock says, "How are you holding up, Skydive?" Swindle steps in to pat both businessmen on the shoulders. "Wonderful, wonderful." Then leans a bit closer, lowering his voice. "Not that this means you have to -like- each other. Trust me, I know how much one often has to put up with others they cannot otherwise stand." Wouldn't want to kill off all the chances to turn some profit on their conflicts otherwise, after all. He takes a step back, resuming his usual volume of tone. "This is certainly the most viable means of benefiting everyone." He sweeps an arm in front of him to bow. "It's been a pleasure, gentlemen. I look forward to your efforts both in the Olympic organization and the Council." Swindle rights himself and walks over to collect one of the ener-martinis and plop down in a Cybertronian sized lounge chair, murmuring to himself "Aaah Swindle, you've still got it." then taking a drink. Blast Off continues to silently watch the goings-ons from the side, ready to provide support to his teammates if required. He has been rather quiet concerning his arch-rival, who he briefly looks at now, then looks away again. It appears that he doesn't want to bring up their rivalry right now, given his recent loss to the Autobot. Blast Off turns and sees Tailgate and shakes his head. So THAT is why there were toasters under that rug. He thinks to himself that Tailgate and Brawl should probably hang out and color coloring books together sometime.... well, before Brawl simply smashes the little'Bot, at least. Blast Off walks over to Swindle and ...hovers, sipping a cocktail. Brawl is distracted by Blast Off going over for hoers d'oeuvers. He spots something that looks like energon goodies. "RECTANGLES!" he announces excitedly, grabbing for one. Kremzeek and Gycony break off their bro hug. The looks they give Swindle definitely confirms that they aren't going to like one another. But they DO like Swindle. "Now that everything settle, Kremzeek say we celebrate! With skiing! And brandy!... and with Gycony getting heck off my planet." Gycony waves his chubby hand dismissively. "Like I'd stay on this miserable ball of ice any longer than I had to. Come on, boys!" He snaps his fingers, causing his two lizard bodyguards to fall in line as they head for the exit out into the snow. Both are going to be phoning up Swindle as soon as all this is over to curry favour with the Combaticon. Poor guy is going to have to make oh so tough choices about all the profit he's going to make. Americon then realizes, belatedly, that Kremzeek's offer of a Masterpiece of himself may have been derailed, and instead he might just get a lame Voyager class or something! "NOOOO!" Americon cries, raising his fists at the ceiling. Blurr gets up once the two respresentatives have shook hands and even partially hugged. "Well, looks like that is that." He says neutrally. "It's been a pleasure. Thank you, Mr....uh, Kremzeek. For the accommodations, and the kind offer." he says, similing politely to the costumed mascot. "Though I'm afraid I'll have to decline, I have many more important matters to attend to besides skiing and...brandy." The speedster then makes his way out after Gycony and his bodyguards, stopping near Blast Off momentarily to give him a sly smile and a slight slap on the shoulder. "...*more*... important?" Kremzeek asks, obviously confused. He looks around to see if anyone else is as bewildered with what Blurr said as he is. "Kremzeek understand words but not make proper sentence!" He grabs his own brandy again, sighing. Athletes are such a fickle bunch. Blast Off glares as Blurr approaches, then startles slightly as Blurr slaps him on the shoulder. For a brief moment, the shuttleformer's aelirons twitch and his optics flash with anger...but he doesn't respond to Blurr. "I am going to get some more hors d'oeuvres, DOYOUWANTANY?" He says a little too angrily to Swindle. Then he heads away quickly without waiting for a response. It may be a bit one sided but Swindle raises his glass to clink against Blast Off's, then resumes sipping from it. He'll be looking forward to that challenge in the future, gentlemen. Reports Message: 9/41 Posted Author Monacus & 6 Lasers Reach Agreement Sun Jul 28 Shockwave ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Lord Gycony and Six Lasers Inc. has revealed a partnership for the upcoming Galactic Olympic games with the Transformers. Their hostile feud was ended by a summit on the snow world of Nepsa, where the two met with representatives from both the Autobot and Decepticon factions. The exact details of the arrangement are still being worked out, but it is expected that both will compete to draw Cybertronian competitors to their venues for the yearly fights, races, and other events. In related news, both Six Lasers Inc. and Monacus have declared their opposition to any military action against Cybertron. When critics pointed out that both parties now have a purely self-serving economic reason for voting against Cybertron instead of the betterment of galactic security, Lord Gycony was quoted as saying: "Well obviously, dumbass."